Hope

Saturday I was in Palomas, Mexico, with a bunch of Pentecostal pastors. After a rousing (very un-Episcopalian) worship service they served us something to eat, but the flies were everywhere. I found myself covering my melon juice with my napkin to keep from sharing! The local people commented, “Ai, estas moscas, es porque nos va caer un aguacero y matarlos.” (Oh, these flies! But it’s because it’s going to rain hard and kill them all.) Then it was, “Que sea un buen verano.” (Hope it’s a good summer.)

Rain is indeed in the forecast for later this week. Monsoon season will start, not right on the 4th of July, but shortly afterwards. The flatline of blue-sky day after blue-sky day is suddenly interrupted. Spring, in the Chihuahuan desert, is dry and hot. Summer is monsoons, and flies are the annoying harbinger of the welcome change. We have flies where I live, too, but they have more to do with the horses our neighbor behind us keeps. We have not yet learned to see them in another light. Sometimes we need to stand in another place, on another mountain or by a different arroyo to get perspective on where we normally stand. Yes, some things are annoying, but perhaps they bring a hidden message of hope. Hope inspires action we might not otherwise have taken.

I planted cactus in my yard yesterday. The flies told me to.

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